


The long way round

by riversoftime



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-02-28 20:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riversoftime/pseuds/riversoftime
Summary: Saving her is not enough. Will never be enough. The Doctor knows he must find a way to bring her back, her hand into his, through time and space. Even though he has to take the long way round for that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer : Of course Dr Who is not mine, neither River Song (sadly)  
> Secondly, english is not my native langage, so translating my french words into it is quite difficult. I'm afraid it could be wonky many times. Please, tell me if that's understandable. I have a second part (with 11th and 12th) in my mind. But my english won't be better (unless someone wants to help me with my mistakes). Would you read this second part anyway ?

The seat was empty. He had closed his eyes only for one split second, when the transfer's light had been too bright, and when he had reopened them, the seat was empty. She had disappeared, the infuriated woman, the space-haired woman, the woman with indomitable courage. The woman who had tried to comfort him, even few seconds before of her own death. The woman who knew his real name. And suddenly the universe seemed a little bit colder, a little bit emptier. The prinstripe suit's Doctor felt his body sagging on the floor, the handcuff's steel - that still held him chained - biting his flesh.

Who was she ? She had said he would see her again, had promised him time and space. But who was she ? To him ? How could he accept to give her a place in his life, in his hearts, with her last moments printed on retina ? What kind of man would he become to accept that ? _Not a line_ , she said. _Don't you dare_. Who was she to forbid this to him ? What had they lived to give this intensity to her voice, at her death's door ? And why it hurted so much, so much, between heartbeats ? He didn't knows her. Not really. He felt like a part of his soul had been torn away from him.

A lonely tear slid down his cheek without even him being aware of it. Nor the footfall behind him until the stranger was within three feet, squatting by his side.

Then the Doctor turned quickly, and met the surprisingly old eyes of a young man. It was a kid, actually, barely out of his 20s, with his limbs of lanky teenage gone to seed and his floppy hair, a little long. A lock of this hair was falling back toward his face. It was a kid with an incredibly weird fashion sense. Was he a survivor of the library ? A lunatic student wearing his ancestor's bow tie, waistcoat and purple tweed frock coat ?

The strange pale blue gaze - almost gray - drifted from the Doctor to the empty chair, and the young man swallowed. His chin - damn it, if Cyrano had said a tirade about his nose, this stranger could do the same about his chin ! - his chin, thus, shook and he lowered his head, closing his eyes. His hair came to sweep his closed eyelids and he remained motionless for a long time, on his heels.

"I thought it would be too painful to say goodbye to her, and I was right, sandshoes. I was right"

The Doctor's eyes widened as he finally felt the smell of Time coming from the stranger. He barely held the complaint that threatened to come out of his own throat when Bowtie took out his sonic and unlocked the handcuffs, without even opening his eyes. It was him. _His_ Doctor.

"But you know what's even more painful ?" The voice was hoarse, almost inodible. "To know that it's over. Know that I won't see her again, I won't touch her again. Her hand in ours, Sandshoes, is the greatest gift of the universe."

Bowtie clenched his fist over the sonic, still not looking at his younger himself. His lips tightened in a thin line, bloodless, before he started again.

"I know you don't believe me. I know you won't hear if I tell you the honest truth. Just her is smart enough for us, crazy enough, brillant enough. You think you know love, but it was only heart beats getting you ready for her. It's not a sun that you would burn for her, it's bloody whole galaxies. But I also know that a piece of you hears me. I've been here. I'll be here forever, chained, soul in ashes. So listen, Sandshoes, and pay attention. "

The Doctor, her Doctor, his future himself, opened finally his eyes and caught him by shoulders, with such force that he would have bruises afterwards. But right now he didn't feel it. Right now he was pinned by Bowtie's shining eyes. An ancient Time Lord's gaze, filled with such pain, such anger, that it was physically painful. A man's gaze - _yes, one day_ \- that would armies turn and run away.

"You'll start to think right now, a piece of your brain you're so absurdly proud of, a piece that will never sleep, will never stop looking for ways to bring her back. Even when you won't pay attention about it, even when you'll forget, even when you'll regenerate, never let this piece stop looking for that. Do you hear me ? NEVER !"

Bowtie's fingers were now like claws in the fabric of his pinstripe suit.

"Until she's here again, with us." Fury seemed for no reason further ignites the clear gaze of his future himself.

"You'll soon believe you have found the solution.You'll think you're very clever. But it's a temporary solution, do you hear me? It's not enough ! It will never be enough ! So look for. For centuries. Because I just promised her. "

As an echo, intangible, inviolable, the pinstripe suit's Doctor nearly thought he heard in his mind.

_See you around, Professor River Song_

_Until the next time, Doctor_

Then words vanished and only remained Bowtie's steel gaze.

"She's always here to us, and she's the only ending we'll never be able to accept. So we have to bring her back, by the long way round if we have to."

They exchanged one last look, so long that Time itself didn't exist anymore, then Sandshoes just nodded, imperceptibly. Bowtie knew he would forget this promise. He knew he would be afraid of River, he would try to flee his own future. But he also knew that he would always come back to her, like a moth around a flame. In fact he had already begun to burn his wings and he'd do it again over and over, because her smile erased all pains, and one name was more important than all others in the universe. Not the oncoming storm, not the destroyer of the worlds, not the Valeyard, not the Doctor. Not even his real name. But _Sweetie_ .

And he also knew, even if he had forgotten it, he would keep his promise. He knew it because, somewhere in the depths of his old mind, piece of him was looking for, time and time again, get her out of the library. How do it better than save her. How bring her back to him so they could run again, hand in hand, through time and space.

He'd not stop until she was returned to him. River Song. _His_ wife. The Doctor's wife.

Then Bowtie got up and - without another glance at the chair where River had sacrificed her life for him - disappeared as silently as he had arrived. Sandshoes didn't even hear the humming of the TARDIS when it dematerialized, but that didn't matter.

He had seen what kind of man he was going to become. He had seen how much he was going to love her. If it was true, they would run. Time and space.

But he still needed a proof. Just a single little proof it was not a fantasy, born from his horror to see her dying in front of him. Powerless.

When he'd go back to his TARDIS, he'd snap his fingers. So, maybe ... He could run to her.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Krystle, you're the best scorer ever ! Thank you for everything

The Eleventh Doctor clenched his fists so much that his knuckles were white, as he returned to his TARDIS. He did what needed to be done.

He had spoken to the Tenth Doctor. He had begun a reflection that was still going on now, more than three hundred years later.

And he was still so alone, so desperate. So widowed.

The absence of River was like molten lava replacing the blood in his veins and burning every ounce of his body. He missed her so much it killed him inside. How could he sleep again? How could he even enter this room that had always been only theirs? Alone.

Bowtie could hear her, even when no one was talking. He had to simply close his eyes to see her. But only emptiness answered him when he stretched out his arms.

His wife, his precious wife, had just died. Everything was starting for his young him, but all was merely ashes for him.

How many years, how many centuries, would it take before he found a solution? And, worse – when another passing thought crossed his mind that felt like being stabbed in both two hearts - What would become of him if there was no way to get her out of the Library?

He mechanically snapped his fingers and was about to pass the doors of the TARDIS when a noise stopped him. It was the hum of a TARDIS landing with brakes on. But not his TARDIS. The Doctor in Tweed swiveled on his heels just in time to see the blue box materialize and a man, a gray-haired, skinny old man, came out.

The stranger, wearing a black jacket lined with red velvet - a magician's jacket, really - froze when he saw him. Then he swore, with a strange accent.

"Dammit ! Sexy, what did you do ?! It's too soon ! They're still here, you got the wrong date !"

This future Doctor with his intense bushy eyebrows - because that could only be a future one - made him look deeply irritated which he must have been at that moment.

He was about to turn around to advance the Old Girl in Time, but Bowtie was quicker. In three gangly strides he was on him and closed his big nervous but desperate hand around the arm of his future him.

"Did you find it ? Did you find a way to save her ?" The will, or even the urge, was painfully there in his eyes as well as in his voice.

The pain that leaked out of the Magician's clear eyes gave him an answer even before his rough, Scottish voice grumbled.

"Don't be stupid. You already know there is no way. You've always known."

The younger Doctor's chin shook, and he lowered his eyes to avoid showing tears to his older self. So it was true. He had lost her. There was nothing left to do.

The wavy ringlets of her blond hair. The lovely sound of her laughter. Her mocking eyes. The softness of her skin. Never again.

Already his grip on the jacket of the Scottish Doctor was loosening, and he was about to flee to his TARDIS in order to try, vainly, to distance the pain that twisted in his bowels, when a detail made him tighten his hand with an renewed vigour.

"If there is nothing left to do, why are you here ?"

Something flickered in the Magician's blue eyes before a mask of distant coldness covered his face. He freed his arm sharply, swallowed, and his hoarse voice answered him.

"I'm going to do what neither you nor that moron of Sandshoes has had the guts to do. I'm going to make set her free."

"But you just said ..." Bowtie's eyes widened when he understood the real meaning of the words of his future self. He was going to erase her. He was going to erase his wife. Their wife. How ... He didn't love her anymore ? It was impossible, it was ... What monster would he become to dare to think of this ?!

But he would prevent it. He would prevent himself to do it, and those fixed points can burn in hell !

"Don't you dare," he replied in a breath, his throat dry with fear.

But already the Magician had turned around, nearly disappearing into the TARDIS.

"DON'T YOU DARE !" he then shouted a second time, propelling himself toward his future him with a ferocity he didn't know himself, grabbing his arm again to make him face him and sending him flying in the same movement with his other fist in his face.

The older Doctor collapsed in the doorway of his blue box, and Bowtie stood up above him, his fists clenched, shaking with rage.

"I swear I'll kill us before you can do that ! I swear it on Rassilon, on our children, and on everything that was dear to us one day ! Who have you become ? What kind of monster are you now ? I know I would destroy the universe to bring her back, and you would like ... " his voice broke and there was nothing more but his gaze, cold as hell, which he continued to dart on the iniquitous man that he would become and who disgusted him.

He expected to more fight, but certainly not to see the raw, savage pain that was returned to him when the clear blue eyes of the Scottish Doctor looked up to him.

"And do you think I didn't try to save her by any means ? Do you think I don't love her anymore !!? My _wife_ !?" The fury shaking within the husky voice of the Doctor with irascible eyebrows.

"It's been over a thousand years that I’ve loved her, you stupid Doctor ! I love her more than you can imagine right now ! But you'll know it ... Oh yes, you'll know it soon enough ..."

Shocked by this confession, the man in Tweed let his older counterpart get up on his own, rubbing his sore jaw. The voice was still so harsh, but it was a face ravaged by the pain that was soon facing him, separated by only a few centimeters.

"We’ve been selfish, as always. An old selfish Time Lord, who couldn't stand the loss of his wife, but River ..." Twelve swallowed, before continuing,

"Have you ever thought about River, trapped in this prison for eternity ? She would have hated it, you know it deep down inside you. We can't ... I've been searching for over thousand years, and I still not have found ... "

Eleven waved his hair away from his face, and looked at his future him with an inhuman intensity. And he repeated, once again, the same words. His voice was low, and deadly cold.

"Don't you dare. River stopped Time to tell us she loved us. She would have torn the universe if necessary ... Did you forget that ? Did you forget how much our wife loves us ? She'll wait until we find a way to get her out of there. Because we'll find it, old fool, never doubt of that !" A slight smile crossed for a moment the sharp lines of Bowtie's face.

"She'll wait. She's a Pond, remember ? The daughter of the Last Centurion and the Girl who waited. Don't underestimate the patience of Pond's blood."

The two Doctors measured each other's eyes, and then the older Doctor wrinkled his bushy eyebrows and gritted his teeth, shaking his head.

"I had forgotten how stubborn I was, so young.  All right. I’ll give us a little more time, I promise you. I shall remain that selfish old man, after all."

He shrugged, brushing his jacket lapel, and turned his face away from Bowtie. His voice sank almost in a whisper as he asked "Her absence will ultimately drive us crazy, you know that ?"

The Eleventh Doctor shook his head briefly, holding back a laugh which would have sounded like a sob.

"Didn't she drive us crazy the first time we met her ?"

The dry laugh of his future self echoed in his ears, and Bowtie swaggered off back to his own TARDIS. He needed to run away now, and mourn. To mourn the woman who had just died, to mourn because he had just learned that he would have to live another thousand years without her, to mourn who he was and who he would become.

The Scottish voice stopped him right before he closed the doors of his ship, and he shuddered at its words.

"Have you ever wondered how long a night is on Darillium ?"

  
  


  
  


The Twelfth Doctor knew that his younger self wouldn’t answer this question, just as he knew it would take him years to find the courage to search for an answer.

He watched the Eleventh Doctor's TARDIS disappear in a familiar sound, and closed briefly his eyes, feeling sorry for his younger self.

He was going to face so much pain, so much sorrow. And so much loneliness ...

He knew, for having lived it, how much each year would be cruel to him, how much he would be missing River at every moment, every second.

Not loving her anymore ? Forgetting her ? The Doctor could never forget his wife, he just had finally accepted it.

But, because he had spent twenty-four marvelous years at her side at Darillium, he had also thought he had to say goodbye to her, that the greatest proof of love he could offer was to free her.

He had forgotten this meeting. Obviously.

It had been enough for him to see himself, younger, to get this memory back, and to remember everything that made him _never_ lose the hope of finding her, one day.

He loved her, yes. Like a madman, a madman in his box. But his selfishness was even more absolute than his love, unfortunately for her.

Or was it this what she would have wanted ?

The man in the magician's costume brushed his jacket with a slightly shaky hand. He no longer had the courage to do what he came to do, he knew it. He wasn't even sure he would have had it in him, that courage, at the fateful moment.

He was about to close the doors of his ship when the sound - strangely familiar - of a TARDIS landing stopped him in his gesture.

Did all his regenerations given themselves a meeting at this very moment of time and space ? Really ?

At this rate he would end up ripping time apart, for her, if he continued like this. They were really two sentimental idiots, acting so unconsciously for each other.

He was still hesitant about leaving the premises before meeting a future version of him when the choice was made for him.

A man was advancing deliberately in his direction, and then stopped to several feet from the TARDIS. The Doctor. He smiled, and the Scottish Doctor felt his eyes widen into a silent question, which he felt unable to ask.

A "no" would break him more certainly than 4.5 billion years in its confessional dial.

His future self just shook his head, while a wild joy shone in his antique eyes.

"How long ?" the Twelfth Doctor asked hoarsely.

"You'll find out ... The long way round" was the answer of the future Doctor.

Of course. There could not be another answer, right ? The Doctor in Magician's costume nodded his head and ran a nervous hand through his gray hair. To know that he would find a way to save her would be enough to cross all of time ahead without her. He would ensure that it would be enough.

"Tell her ..." A smile was born on his stern face, a smile that only River had already seen on the lips of this version of the Doctor. Almost a smirk. "Tell her she's loved, by so many and so much. And by no one more than me."

"Those are words that I have been waiting to tell her for a _very_ long time." The Doctor greeted his younger him with a last nod and walked into the depths of the Library.

Soon, his self in pinstripe suit, so much younger, was going to save their wife. And right after he could _save_ her. Then the Universe would only have to watch them run again, hand in hand.  

 


End file.
